


Insurrection

by rosie_red



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Attempted Kidnapping, Bombing, Drama, F/M, New Series Adventures inspired, Off-World, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 08:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosie_red/pseuds/rosie_red
Summary: A killer Queen, rebellion and political assassinations. Rose and the Doctor are trapped in the middle of civil revolt. Is either side truly right? Can they ease the tensions before civil war tears the planet apart?I have re-watched series 2 episodes too many times, so I decided to write my own.





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

Jorge cried out, thrashing in his bonds, as the baton came cracking down onto his already bruised ribs.

“Speak, filth.” His jailer’s deep voice cut through the blinding pain, but still he remained quiet, his ragged breaths the only reply. “I said speak! Where is your base of operations?” His words were punctuated with a blow that sent Jorge reeling. His head snapped back sharply, the iron tang of blood filling his mouth. He choked, scrunching up his eyes as he prepared for another blow.

It never came.

He started at the rhythmic sound of heels clicking on the concrete floor behind him. It was the first new sound he had heard in days, in the dimly lit prison cell.

“Ma’am.” His jailer stood to attention, voice calmer now, as a robed figure entered his sight.

Turning to the jailer, she asked, “Have you extracted any information?” Her voice was void of emotion, as she ignored the bloodied man.

“I’d never betray my people!” His shout made the woman turn to face him, but he didn’t have chance to catch her expression as another punch was levied to his jaw.

“You do not speak to her.” Jorge sagged, all strength leaving him. “Forgive me, ma’am, but he has refused to give up any information.”

The woman reached out a hand to mockingly trace Jorge’s bloodied lip, tutting as she did so.

“Pity. If he is of no use to us, you shall have to dispose of him.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Panic coiled in Jorge’s stomach. He renewed his struggling as the robed woman turned away from him, heels clicking once more. To his surprise, however, his jailer did not approach him. Instead, the beefy man head for the small control panel on the wall of the cell. It beeped as it recognised him, before he pressed down on a button.

Unspeakable agony bombarded him. Jorge’s body convulsed, muscles contracting over and over as his bones rattled against the metal frame holding him up. Dimly he recognised his own voice, screaming in the darkness, as the electricity coursed through his weak frame. And then there was relief, as he knew no more.


	2. Chapter 1

“So, go on then, where are we? What planet?” Rose asked, grin plastered to her face, as she bounded to the door of the Tardis like an excitable puppy.

Her companion, the Doctor, a tall slim man with floppy brown hair, grinned back at her. “It’s called The Citadel, a human colony, and it’s not a planet – well sort of,”

“What is it then?” She interjected, pushing her shoulder length blonde hair behind her ears.

“It’s man-made. Big fat whopping city inside of its own glass eco-chamber. Think snow globe, but the size of Wales, that flies around space.”

She laughed. “That’s amazing! Ridiculous, but amazing. Are you sure I’ll blend in wearing this?” She shifted attention to the ankle length blue dress she was sporting, far from her usual get up of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Are you doubting my fashion skills?” He affected a wounded look. “Blue is _the_ colour to wear in the 36 th century.”  She felt giddy at that. The 36th century! She was over 1500 years out of her time.

She threw the Doctor a dubious expression, “Your fashion skills? No. But I ‘aven’t forgotten that time _you_ said we were going to ancient Greece, and I ended up chilling about the estate in a toga!” And of course, the Doctor had still been dressed in his signature brown suit and coat so he didn’t have to worry about being stared at.

“That was a genuine misunderstanding—so are we going out or what?” He gestured to the door, clearly as excited as she was.

Turning to face it, Rose took a deep breath and pulled it open. This was always her favourite part of the adventure. She still sometimes didn’t believe that this really was her life, that she _really_ got to travel through space and time with a 900-year-old alien, inside of an impossible blue box.

They stepped out into the dim light of sunrise or sunset, you could never be certain which, onto a wide gravelled street lined with street lamps. It was chilly, the air nipped at their exposed necks and hands. Tall sky scrapers, made entirely of glass, loomed imposingly on either side of them and stretched as far as the eye could see. It looked a lot like her own 21st Century home, except it was completely deserted. London was alive and bustling no matter the hour.

“Where’s all the people?” Rose wondered aloud.

The Doctor completed a small circle, head craned upwards. “Good question, curfew perhaps?”

They walked side by side past closed shops and businesses, none of which Rose recognised, the silence unconsciously compelling them both to stay quiet. It seemed most buildings here were skyscrapers, or at least as tall as Rose’s block of flats back home. Rounding a corner, they entered onto another street, almost identical to the one they had been on before, albeit with a different array of shops.

 _Boring,_ Rose thought to herself. She couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, after all the amazing places the Doctor had taken her to, normal life could seem a little bland to her now.

A rumble of thunder sounded above them. It stopped them in their tracks, their heads snapped up and the Doctor grimaced.

“Don’t like the look of those clouds.”

As if brought forth by the acknowledgement, Rose felt the first drops of rain collide with her skin, wet trickled down her cheek. “Great.” She moaned, reaching out for the Doctor’s hand. “I vote shelter, I’ve already had a shower today.” He took the offered limb already pulling her down the street.

“Shelter it is!” And with that they were off, running now. Not even a minute into their search, the heavens truly opened, water bouncing off the ground with its force, thoroughly drenching the pair in the process.

“Look! There.” Rose shouted over the torrent of water. She was pointing to a skyscraper adoring a sign proclaiming _The Serene Hotel_ , then in smaller print, _Rooms available_. The Doctor led the way, dragging her towards the building.

They entered the lobby at a run, startling the tired looking blonde behind the check in desk. She looked up at them, apparently lost for words, the pair creating puddles on the floor and panting like they had just run a marathon. Rose noted that she was wearing a similar shade of blue to her own dress, and couldn’t help but smirk.

The receptionist audibly cleared her throat, “Welcome, gentleman and lady, to the Serene hotel, would you like to arrange for a room?”

Rose turned to the Doctor, his nose red from the cold, prompting him to explain. He patted at his soaked jacket pockets, pulling out his miraculously dry psychic paper. Rose would certainly be asking him about waterproof pockets once they were alone.

“Hello,” The Doctor gave the woman his most innocent smile as he handed over the paper, “I’m John Smith and this is—“

“—Lillian of the Citadel!” The blonde cut him off, eyes wide staring at Rose, before she ducked her head. “Please ma’am, forgive me, I did not recognise you.”

Rose stared back, just who did this woman think she was?

“Yes, well,” The Doctor sounded just as taken aback as she felt, “We would like a room, please.”

She ignored him, addressing Rose directly. “I will arrange for our penthouse to be cleared for you immediately.”

“It’s, er, fine. Don’t worry about it. We can take a normal room.”

The woman looked appalled at the suggestion. “Certainly not! The heir to our great city should have only the best hospitality. Please excuse me.” She curtseyed, exiting the desk and disappearing through a set of doors.

Rose elbowed the Doctor, hard. “What happened there?" She hissed, ignoring his wince of pain.

The Doctor couldn’t help it, he laughed. “It’s the Psychic paper.” He said, as if this explained everything, “She saw what she wanted to see. Better make the most of it, _ma’am_.” He teased.

She glared at him, “We are gonna get in so much trouble for this.”

“I should hope so!” He grinned at her, and she cracked up too, looking away to hide her own spreading smile.

 

~

Not two minutes later the lobby was filled with staff members, most of whom scurried around Rose, ushering her towards the door they had just entered from.

“Please take care of my man servant.” Rose waved a hand towards the Doctor, who was speaking to three staff members himself.

 _‘man servant?’_ he mouthed at her, offended, she stuck out her tongue in reply, his earlier tip of ‘making the most of it’ ringing in her ears.

“Of course, ma’am.” A smartly dressed man, the hotel’s owner Rose assumed, assured her. “Come, we shall dry your clothing and provide you both with dinner.”

“That sounds perfect, thank you!” She could certainly learn to like this role.

 

Rose combed her, now dry, hair into place mirror of the small room she had been instructed to change in. There was a hesitant knock at the door.

“Come in!” She called, turning to face the visitor.

A skinny dark-haired lad, no older than perhaps 17, popped his head around the door. When he didn’t speak, opting to stare at Rose, she awkwardly initiated conversation.

“Is dinner ready?” She ventured.

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry. I just came to give you this while you were waiting.” He sheepishly held out a tall glass, cone shaped with a long stem, containing a fizzing clear liquid.

She took it from him and smiled at the nervous boy. “Thank you.” He nodded, not moving from his spot by the door, and Rose realised he was waiting for her to drink it. Quickly, she drew the glass to her lips and sipped. The liquid was overly sweet, with an odd aftertaste. She forced two large mouthfuls down before drawing it back, once again smiling at the boy.

“Do you have any idea how long it will be until dinner?”

He didn’t move. “I’m sorry. I’m really very sorry, ma’am.”

A sickening dread flooded her body. Had they worked out she wasn’t who the psychic paper said she was? She kept her composure the best she could.

“Why? What do you mean?” The boy started towards her slowly, and Rose froze, ready to fight. She dropped the glass, its contents sloshing over the floor as it shattered. “I’m warning you. Stay back.” But even as she said it, she could feel her limbs grow heavy and her vision begin to cloud. “My– my friend will–” Her hand flew to her head, what had he done to her? “He, will –” She fell to the floor, the last of her vision blackening. She felt the boy pull her comatose body from the floor, before the drug wrenched away her consciousness.

 

~

The Doctor padded out into the hotel’s corridor, pulling his tie into place. It had only taken a few minutes for the hotel’s drier to remove the water particles from his suit and jacket. He had been told by staff to stay in his room and wait for someone to collect him, but that just wasn’t his style. Might as well peruse the building while he was waiting. He wondered how Rose was doing, clearly having found the whole experience amusing, if a little overwhelming. He had worked out, thanks to the clock in reception, that it was early morning in the Citadel. If they could get the dinner wrapped up in a few hours, the two of them would have the rest of the day to properly explore. The Doctor had heard rumours of a fantastic pancake shop on the not-a-planet.

He stopped still, suddenly, as he heard footsteps and voices coming from ahead of him. The Doctor dived down a side corridor, pressing himself flush to the wall, out of sight. A man and a woman, both in hotel uniform walked past pushing a cart full of what appeared to be laundry.

“–and then Rathwell the cleaner said that _Lillian_ was here!” The woman spoke excitedly.

“ _The_ Lillian?”

“The very one! Turned up completely out of–“

The Doctor smirked at their conversation, the psychic paper slip up had caused quite the stir it seemed. As their voices became distant and muffled, he braved a look back into the main corridor, only to see a lanky, dark haired man doing the exact same thing at the other end of the long corridor.

The Doctor pulled back to avoid being spotted, _oh hello, what’s going on here then_ , he grinned, someone else was sneaking about. He heard a door slam, so he popped out again. The man had fully stepped into the corridor, carrying– The Doctor’s hearts stopped as he saw the limp form of Rose in the man’s arms. It was unmistakeably her, shoulder length blonde hair and blue dress.

For a moment, he didn’t move an inch, brain not comprehending the scene in front of him. And then he was sprinting, coat tails soaring behind him. He was shouting too, mouth moving before he could stop it.

“HEY, THAT’S MY FRIEND!”

The man visibly jumped, and Rose’s head lolled back in his hold, revealing her face. This spurred the Doctor on faster, refusing to panic, pushing it to the back of his mind as he ran. The man was running too, he burst through a set of double doors and started down a flight of stairs. The Doctor’s shoulder jarred as he slammed through the doors ten seconds later. By then, the man was almost two floors below him, having had the advantage. But with Rose’s unconscious body a dead weight in his arms, he couldn’t keep up that speed for long. It seemed he knew it too. He stopped his decent, throwing himself and Rose away from the stair case, and blindly through the nearest door, kicking an abandoned service trolley into the Doctor’s path before the door slammed shut.

The Doctor didn’t have time to avoid the trolley, not at that speed. He crashed into and over it, sending plates and cutlery flying. He rolled with the momentum, finding himself at the door in seconds. He pulled the handle. Locked. He pulled his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket and thumbed for the button. A whirring noise accompanied the blue light it projected, and then the door clicked open and the Doctor stormed through.

The man turned to face him, shock evident on his face, as he abandoned the window he was trying to pry open. But it wasn’t a man at all, the Doctor realised. It was just a boy, frightened eyes meeting his enraged ones. The boy took a step towards Rose, who he had left discarded on the floor as if she was nothing more than rubbish. The Doctor stepped forward, deadly calm. He pointed his sonic at him, threateningly. “Don’t move” He spat. “Two things, get away from her now, and WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY FRIEND?”


End file.
